Yesterday's News
by Belgaris
Summary: "The insult he sneered at me was just a bonus. 'Harry Potter, yesterday's news'. Truer words could not have been spoken. I'm surprised the 'pretty boy' isn't here with you tonight!" "Difficult," Marvolo mused, "As he's dead." "Dead?" "Hmm, yes. I killed him for that insult you know." Marvolo drawled. "or rather Voldemort did. (LV/HP (Slash)


A/N This story is male/male. (SLASH). If this offends you. **Please** do not Read.

Pairings: LV/HP

Yesterday's News

"Yes, what is it?" He asked, not looking up from writing his missive.

"He's back my Lo... Marvolo," a cautious voice spoke from the doorway of his study.

"Hmm, and who would that be exactly?"

"_Him_, my Lord." Lucius Malfoy steeled himself for pain. Nobody was allowed to mention _his_ name, and if they did...

Lord Marvolo Slytherin stiffened, the hand racing across the parchment stilled and the quill snapped between his fingers.

"Get out." He snapped.

Lucius withdrew with a bow, breathing an audible sigh of relief.

Marvolo rose to his feet and abruptly swept his desk clean as sheer and utter rage instantly consumed him. How _dare_ the little_ bastard_ return now! He would kill him! No, he would torture him into insanity and then kill him!

Bloody Harry _Potter_, no... Lord _Haidar_ _Black_ now, or so he had been told, was the bane of his life, except he wasn't _in_ his life, and hadn't been for _six_ years!

The scrawny, whining son of a mudblood whore! _Three_ years he'd had to put up with _Potter_, his suffocating shuffling presence in his every day life, his putrid do gooder ideas, his nauseating notions of right and wrong and fairness! _Three_ years of _restraining_ himself from putting his hands around that long slender neck and wringing it until the spawn of hell choked out his last breath! _Three_ years of breathing that obnoxious white magic that made him want to vomit in its purity! _Three_ years of looking at his ridiculously large bright green eyes and seeing gentle reproach and disappointment reflected in them at some of his more radical policies, and then having to listen to him vetoing them with a quiet sensible compromise that never _ceased_ to make him _yearn_ to kill him on the spot, treaty or no!

Saint fucking Dumbledore, dead and deservedly roasting in hell for forcing the cancer that was _Potter_ into his life, had halted a war that was spiralling out of control and would only end in the Light's ignominious defeat. The fool only barely saved face-when the 'saviour' flatly refused to fight any more-by drawing up a treaty that gave Marvolo the chance to win the power he'd always craved. The one true drawback was that he had to do it alongside a then seventeen year old _Potter_. And he had.

With the full support of the Boy-Who-Lived by his side, like some toxic shadow, Lord Voldemort died and Lord Marvolo Slytherin was born, and he had charmed the wizarding world with his good looks, charisma, and policies that could only bring peace and prosperity to their world, instead of razing it to the ground.

_Three_ years of living with that dog like devotion and then later that shy blushing, head lowering, adoration that Marvolo had seen before the idiotic Griffindor could hide it. _Three_ years... and then in a fit of utter rage and a chronic need to _drive_ this _tormenting_ devil from his head, he had spent the last year of them pounding the little cretin into the mattress, with a burning rage that could never be satiated and a hate that consumed him.

He took Potter's innocence and used Dumbledore's _'gift of conscience'_ almost nightly. He was never kind, never gentle. He barely even spoke. And when it was over the boy would melt away as if he'd never been there. It was revenge, his _right_, for having to_ share _his life, his mind, his very _soul_, with the insufferable boy.

_Three_ years of utter hell being judged and found wanting by the fucking _Saviour_ of the wizarding world - until that glorious day he became Minister of Magic and the whole world adored him, the day he didn't _need_ Harry Potter clucking at his heels anymore, the day he could _breathe_ again.

The day that Harry Potter became 'yesterday's news'.

The day that puerile look was wiped from Harry Potter's eyes.

The day that Harry Potter left him.

Lord Marvolo Slytherin, ex Dark Lord Voldemort, removed his wand from his sleeve and systematically blew his study to smithereens.

* * *

Marvolo was bored. He hated these things. Why the hell he had to be here he didn't know. Surely it was good enough that Lucius attend? He sighed heavily and snatched another drink from the tray floating by him.

"Why am I here Lucius," he snapped, draining his glass and vanishing it.

Mindful of Marvolo's raging temper for the last four weeks, Lucius ended his conversation with Severus and turned to his former master. "The Minister of Magic wasn't good enough, the Prince insisted you be here. He said he has something that will interest you."

"That idiot and his games." Marvolo said, knowing full well he had to be here, and normally he would not have minded at all. But since that bloody bastard had returned to the country he couldn't think straight... _again._

"They have arrived." Severus informed them as he looked above the heads of the milling Lords, Ladies, and politicians. His eyes widened and he took a step back, whispering to Lucius who paled badly enough for his wife to urgently enquire if he was feeling ill.

"Well lets get this over with then," Marvolo said, leading the way. "Junius likes to be..." he stopped abruptly and came to a standstill.

"There you are my dear, _dear_, Marvolo, looking as fatally handsome and powerful as ever! Oh how I wish I had your looks! I have missed you my friend! Lucius, Severus, and the beautiful Narcissa, ahh, you overwhelm me with your perfection my dear." The French Prince preceded to introduce his four dignitaries to the frozen tableau before him, then looked around...

"Haidar! Come man, meet Lord Marvolo Slytherin, Lord Lucius Malfoy, Lady Narcissa Malfoy and Lord Severus Prince. The elite of your British Isles... and this my dears, is my latest _puzzle_, Lord Haidar Black."

The man in question stared unblinkingly at the four with completely expressionless eyes. His lips pursed and he tapped them with a slender finger. "Junius, you _sly_ little fox," he said in cold clipped precise tones. "You failed to inform me I'd be in such..." he paused, "_exalted_ company tonight. How rude of you. The elite of Britain indeed." He did not proffer a hand to be shaken, but gave a curt bow.

Junius laughed good naturedly. "Ah, my puzzle. That is because I knew you would not come if I had. But aren't you delighted with my ploy this time? I blindfolded him," he admitted to the four, "I just love the look on his face when he has no idea where we are going! Its a game we play when I am trying to amuse him. Haidar, It is not everyday one gets the opportunity to meet the legend that is the great Marvolo! Didn't I do well!"

There was silence for a long moment as cold green eyes swept Marvolo from head to toe and back again, before they stared into rich wine red eyes. "You make him sound like a second rate _muggle _magician, Junius." Haidar suddenly snapped at the Prince with contempt.

Junius laughed. "I apologise, Marvolo, I certainly did not mean to."

Marvolo came back to himself, his eyes narrowing. "Harry _Potter_..."

"Yes, yes, I knew him for a while and heard all his stories many times over. Please spare me any more." Haidar interrupted coldly. "I have it on very good authority that, thankfully, he is dead."

"Isn't he just wonderful,"Junius breathed, "absolutely nothing impresses him! I've tried for years to find something, _someone_, that brings a spark to those eyes, but alas..."

"One would think you would tire of the game," Haidar snapped in those clipped cold tones. He looked at Junius with narrowed eyes and his face hardened. "_Politicians_, Junius? Really?"

Marvolo stared at the man that had been Harry Potter. In a sense he was correct, Harry Potter was dead, for twenty-six year old Haidar hardly bore any resemblance to the seventeen year old Potter that Dumbledore had thrust upon him.

Taller certainly, with long black hair that spilled over his shoulders. He held himself in a painfully rigid posture that looked like it hadn't relaxed in years, and his whipcord lean body was adorned in impeccable robes that seemed to mould along the lines of his skin with his every move. His face was pale, sharply sculptured, and hard. His cold green eyes were even harder, no glasses now to shield the piercing icy glare that he bestowed upon the four, daring them to reveal his true identity and offering silent retribution if they did.

"You bear no love for our 'saviour' then, _Lord Black_." Marvolo sneered the name. He may have changed over the last six years but _Haidar_ was bloody Harry Potter, bane of Marvolo's existence, whether he liked it or not!

Haidar laughed suddenly startling the group that had whittled down to just the six of them. There was no joy in it, only bitterness. "Love? What a strange word to use in relation to him. No, I bear no _love_ for him, no more than anyone else in this world ever did. But then he was such a contemptible little coward _really_, wasn't he."

"How so?" Marvolo asked, his eyes narrowing dangerously. The cold dead eyes zeroed in on him and Marvolo loathed the lack of expression in them. He loathed the new clipped cold tones of his voice, he loathed the break back rigid posture, he loathed the hard and unyielding face of Haidar Black.

"Allowing himself to be _used_ all of his life of course. Allowing the abuse he suffered at the hands of his muggle family, curtsey of_ Dumbledore. _ Allowing himself to be Dumbledore's puppet, and used by his friends and peers and the public, trying to be exactly what _they_ wanted him to be. Talk about a dog jumping through hoops. It was never enough though, no matter what he did. He still managed to get discredited by the ministry as a lunatic, reviled by the public and ostracised." Haidar tuned his head suddenly as if looking for something, then turned back to Marvolo.

"Ah, but then he was hailed as a hero when he seemingly did their dirty work for them by disposing of Voldemort... and didn't your campaign to greatness _use_ him too? I heard Dumbledore _gave_ him to you, just like that! Like a prize pig... he wasn't even consulted, much less given a choice. Still, he went along with it as always, the idiot child craving approval_. _No, Lord Slytherin, I bear no love for your Saviour_, _I_ despise _him_._" He looked around again. "Junius, I could really do with a dri..."

"You think _you_ would have faired better than he," Marvolo interrupted sneeringly. In a strange twisted irony he wanted to defend the poor hapless innocent Potter from this bitter cynical one.

Haidar Black slowly turned his eyes to Marvolo and magic, as black as sin, encompassed the group in a burning suffocating heat that grew until Junius stepped up and placed a hand on Haidar's shoulder and squeezed. Marvolo idly wondered if he could get away with cutting that hand off at the wrist. And black magic? What had the idiot boy been up to... suddenly the magic was pulled back.

"Oh I think so, Lord Slytherin." Haidar sneered back, locking icy eyes with red fiery orbs. "Absolutely no question about it, though I doubt any of the 'players' in his sad little life would have survived the experience."

"He needs a _drink!_" Junius grabbed Haidar by the arm and started dragging him away. "Never, Lucius, have I had to wait so long for refreshment to be offered! It really is too bad..." His manic words faded as he and his charge disappeared into the crowd.

* * *

"What the hell happened to him?" Severus said when the four had found a secluded table.

"I have no clue," Lucius drawled, trying to sound bored and failing.

"_We_ happened." Narcissa spat. "What? Don't you dare all give me that, '_what are you talking about woman_', look. He spent three years with us as an adorable puppy falling over himself to help, and we managed to turn him into a hound from hell! His magic..." she shuddered. "Its Black. Purest black! That beautiful white magic, so rare and pure and sweet... _Gone!_" She stared savagely at Marvolo.

"Well _I_ did not turn him, Cissa, so do not look to me!" Marvolo did not look her in the eye though. Only _she_ had ever dared, and been allowed, to 'chastise' him. Trust fucking Potter to go from one extreme to the other. No dark or grey or light magic for him. No! It had to be White or Black. The infuriating little fool.

"No, you maybe did not turn him but you broke him, Marvolo, and you did it deliberately. You all did!"

"_I_, Narcissa?" Lucius spluttered.

"When did you ever back him against Marvolo when he was screaming and shouting at Harry over the policies that had to be changed to make them even _remotely_ acceptable, even though you always agreed with every word Harry said!"

Lucius paled and slowly met the narrowed eyes of the former dark Lord. "_Did_ you Lucius." he hissed, in a voice the man hadn't heard for years.

"Er... well, I _sometimes_... he had an uncanny knack of making the most unlikely policies perfectly acceptable. He would have made a brilliant politician..." Lucius trailed off as Marvolo growled at him.

"Why are we even talking about this?" Severus interrupted, to rescue his friend. "It's _Potter_, for merlin's sake. He loved becoming all the more famous for being part of our Lord's... I mean Marvolo's take over! Attention seeking little hound."

"No he did not!" Narcissa bristled. "You all shoved him at the cameras until you became so popular that you didn't need him any more! From that time on you shoved him into the background where he was more than happy to be! And _you_ Severus, Harry cleared your name and turned you into a semi-hero when _both_ sides of the war were out for your blood! If he hadn't declared that you were neither Voldemort's nor Dumbledore's spy but _his_ spy and protector since he was eleven years old, one side or the other would have killed you by now! Just remember that, you insufferable ingrate!" Narcissa hissed. "And if you say _one_ more word," she spat as Severus opened his mouth, "to try to justify the disgraceful way Harry was treated, you and Lucius will be banned from my bedroom for a month!"

Severus snapped his mouth shut and Lucius glared at him. "I was only tying to help Lucius," Severus muttered. "And I _did_ protect the little sod from age eleven till the war ended. If you must know, Narcissa, Harry and I had a tolerable relationship during those last three years. I was... concerned when he disappeared. I did not know he felt so bitter about his life though."

Marvolo rubbed his brow. "I think we all heard Potter's opinion on the wizarding world. I think he said it all." He snapped his fingers for a drink and stood. "Time to mingle."

"I never knew that Dumbledore _gave_ him to us," Lucius said with distaste. "I didn't know he had no _choice_ in the matter."

"He did not give him to _us,_ Lucius." Marvolo hissed possessively, Voldemort raring to the fore. "He gave him to _me_. He was mine!"

"_**And it drove you mad."**_ The voice, whispered through his mind in parseltongue, had Marvolo painfully hard and breathing shallowly within a second. He abruptly sat back down. "Leave me." He ordered the others harshly.

Haidar stepped out of the shadows and slipped into the seat next to him a few moments later. Each was silent as the air between them came to life with a crackling awareness that was painful. Marvolo's skin prickled with heat, the hairs on the back of his neck and arms stood to attention.

"You didn't remain Minister for long." Haidar finally observed sipping his drink.

"No, it bored me senseless. It was a hollow victory after...," Marvolo paused. "I gave the job to Lucius once I made it clear to the masses that my time would be better spent working on a more... international basis."

Haidar nodded. "I never could envisage you in such a mundane role. Control of the wizarding world, not just a tiny part of it, was always Voldemort's goal. I apologise if my presence here has caused you any... embarrassment. Junius has no idea of my history. He has been so determined to get me back into this country over the years, he finally wore me down. He knows I loathe politics so I assumed he wouldn't... I really did not know where I was going tonight. He does so like to play games."

Silence stretched between them again. Marvolo studied the boy from the corner of his eye. He sat ramrod straight, tension in every line of his body. Though he was hardly a boy, he was a twenty-six year old man, but somehow, to him, he _would_ always be a boy, no matter his age. The Boy-Who-Lived, who had been such an intricate part of his life from the day he was born. Had there been one single day since his resurrection that he had _not_ thought about Potter? He found he wanted to lift the boy's hair and trace the faded scar that bound them together with invisible cords of fire and ice. Harry Potter, his boy – or used to be.

"You ran like a coward." Marvolo suddenly spat, draining his glass and snapping his fingers. Two more fire-whiskies appeared in front of them. Neither man looked at the other. Both stared straight ahead, each lost in their own memories of that day.

"I did," Haidar conceded eventually in a hard voice. "You didn't need me anymore, the job was done. You wanted me gone just as much as I wanted to go."

"Are you being deliberately obtuse, _Haidar_." Marvolo sneered the name. "Of course I wanted you out of my hair once I took the Ministry, that was a given, we both know that. It was intolerable having you walk in my shadow every minute of the day. Your role in _that_ part of my life was well and truly over. Thank the gods. But that is not what I am referring to and you know it!"

"I do _not_ want to talk about it." Haidar hissed.

"You _will_ talk about it and you will allow me the curtsey of explaining what happened. _How_ it happened." Marvolo hissed back in an icy voice that was pure Voldemort.

Haidar shivered as a slight flush coloured his pale cheeks. "I should not have come to your rooms. It is not something I had ever done before. You would always came for me. Wherever I was, whatever I was doing, you would just appear behind me, wrap your arms around me and apparate me to your chambers. I don't know why, for the first time in a year, I decided to come to you. You had won the election that day, maybe it was the knowledge that I was finally a free man that made me do it."

Marvolo sighed and rubbed the rim of his glass. "I won, I drank a lot at the celebration party, and the whole time, all I could think of was that finally, I was free of you. Not the victory, not the fact that I was Minister, all I thought about was you. How I could now dismiss you from my life. You were a madness, you were my only weakness, you plagued my every thought and had done for _three_ years." Marvolo watched as the boy somehow managed to stiffen further, his knuckles bone white around his glass.

"Everyone kept congratulating me and it was like ashes. It wasn't you. You were not there and the more I looked for you the angrier I became at myself because the only person I _wanted_ to see was you. It infuriated me. The realisation that I..." Marvolo swallowed his drink. "I _had_ to get you out of my mind. Jefferson was hanging on to my every word, as usual. He was being insufferable. He had dogged me all night and as my rage grew at you, I looked at the pretty boy sycophant and I thought, why not?"

The glass in Haidar's hand suddenly shattered. "I do _not_ want to hear this!" he snarled through gritted teeth. He healed his hand and vanished the mess. "Why must you _insist_ on gnawing on dead bones! You owe me no explanations, your life was your own to do as you pleased, you owed me no loyalty, you owed me nothing! I assure you what happened next is firmly etched in my brain!"

He stood, turning to Marvolo, his rigid stance screaming with tension. "I hope Jefferson succeeded in wiping Harry Potter from your mind and bringing you the peace you craved. The triumphant smile on his face when he saw me standing at the door tells me he did. The insult he sneered at me was just a bonus. '_Harry Potter_, y_esterday's news_'. Truer words could not have been spoken. I'm surprised the 'pretty boy' isn't here with you tonight!"

"Difficult," Marvolo mused, "As he's dead."

Haidar froze and looked down at him. "Dead?"

"Hmm, yes. I killed him for that insult you know." Marvolo drawled. "or rather Voldemort did. It's so difficult to separate the two sometimes, _Haidar_.

"You... you _killed_ him? Purely because he _insulted_ me?!"

"Well of course I did! He displeased me greatly by smiling at you, and then he insulted you!" Marvolo snapped unapologetically. "So I killed him!" _Because I saw the light disappear from your eyes_. "It appears Voldemort isn't quite as dead as we thought. However, _before_ you came into the room I was merely about to _obliviate_ him. So really, its your fault he's dead."

Marvolo thought he caught a tiny glimpse of humour in those hard cold eyes.

Haidar raised a brow. "You know, you really shouldn't take things so personally, after all it was _Harry Potter_ he insulted, not you. Though... I understand... insults... can be tricky things." He mused quietly staring into a distant memory. "Why were you going to obliviate him?" He asked curiously.

"Couldn't have a little shit like him running around telling the world the newly appointed Minister couldn't get it up, could I? Or even worse saying I did!"

"Couldn't get... so you didn't..."

"No, thank the gods. He was the most useless semi-fuck I've ever had the misfortune to nearly have. I doubt he could have gotten me hard if he was the last man on earth and I'd been dry for years." Marvolo said sarcastically. _And_ _he just wasn't you._

Haidar's lips twitched. "You do realise that Harry Potter would highly disapprove of your impetuous actions in killing a man purely because he _insulted_ him, do you not?" He said sternly.

Marvolo sighed. This time it was a heavy, defeated sigh as he stared into his glass. "Yes, I do know. I cannot be what he wants me to be, I cannot ever live up to his... expectations. I lapse... a lot."

"How _excellent_ it is then, that I am _not_ Harry Potter." Haidar smirked at Marvolo's sudden evaluating gaze before turning away and weaving into the crowd.

* * *

Marvolo was leaning against a pillar in the shadows, watching Lord Haidar Black as he talked stiltedly to Lords and Ladies alike, and drank from the glass of fire whiskey in his hand. As he drained it, he immediately snapped for another. Marvolo thought he drank far too much, though it seemed to have very little to no effect on him.

He wondered if Haidar really _could_ accept him for who he truly was. For he _was_ Voldemort, and though he had no wish to reign in terror, or enlist Death-Eaters, he dealt with problems and trouble around the wizarding world quickly, efficiently, and mercilessly. He did not take prisoners. And when the wizarding world was fully stable and prosperous under his leadership, and that time was not far off now, he fully intended to reveal himself as Voldemort. He had no doubts that some would object or rebel but on the whole he reasoned, the masses would accept him considering the good he had done thus far. He could not pretend to be less than he was, no more than he could pretend to be an honest to goodness upstanding Politician.

But he did have lapses, as he told Haidar, Jefferson being only one of them. He had watched his boy turn to stone and the light leave those frighteningly expressive eyes that laid all of his emotions bare – he had watched Harry turn and walk away, closing the door quietly behind him, and Jefferson had turned to him and smirked. It had been Lord Voldemort who had rose from the bed and warded the door and put up a silencing charm. It had been Lord Voldemort who had turned back to Jefferson and smiled like a shark.

"It is no good, Marvolo." Junius laid a hand on the shoulder of the most powerful man in the magical world.

He turned his head to the flighty annoying Prince.

"What are you talking about, Junius. I am not in the mood for your games tonight."

"Beautiful, is he not? My Puzzle. I am a collector, as you know, but never have I found a gem such as he."

Marvolo growled. "What is he doing with you anyway. He doesn't seem the type to be one of your... pieces." His wand slipped into his hand, concealed, but ready to strike if the little upstart had touched...

Junius snorted. "If only!" He shook his head sadly. "Five years I have known him and he still recoils from any... attachments. So many have tried and failed. There has only ever been _the_ _one_ for him, and he will not tell me _who_. That is what I meant earlier when I said it is no good. I thought _you_ would turn his eye, that is why I brought him here tonight. In fact I was certain of it! I am afraid I have failed again in my endeavour to make him happy. No, he would not have me, he merely tolerates me because I saved him, and he suffers me now because on the odd occasion I manage to amuse him. I know for sure he is joyless in life."

Marvolo sneered, putting his wand away and feeling his shoulders relax. Junius was lucky he hadn't fucked Potter, he was also lucky his attempts to get him laid had _failed_. The Idiot. "You say you saved him. From what exactly."

"Himself. I found him in the Syrian Dessert fighting in a muggle civil war. He had been there for almost a year. I was delivering a shipment of weapons for a muggle... friend of mine. He told me I must come to 'the game' and led me to a large tent. Two men sat opposite each other at a table, each holding a pistol. The crowd were exchanging wagers and my friend told me it was called 'Russian Roulette'. You know of this muggle madness?"

Marvolo nodded stiffly, his eyes boring into the back of Haidar's head as he spoke to a witch with excited eyes and whose pouting red lips Marvolo wanted to carve off her face with a blunt knife.

"One of those two men stole my attention, and I immediately wagered all I had on him because of his eyes, Marvolo. They were already quite dead. I asked his name and was told they did not know it so they had named him Haidar, meaning Lion in their language.

Marvolo swung his piercing gaze to the, for once, completely serious face of the French Prince.

"Haidar immediately lifted his gun to his temple, no pause. And his terrifying beauty in that one moment, that one glorious moment when he pulled the trigger, was a sight I will live with till the end of my days. My heart was in my throat when his opponent failed to take his turn and my puzzle pulled his trigger again. The game was over, he had won but... again he pulled his trigger. Three times, out of six, and as he pulled the fourth time the entire place went still and I saw his cold dead eyes flicker with utter despair and I felt his magic. So, Marvolo, I took him. I leapt forward, knocked the gun from his hand and dragged him out of there.

"He stayed with me for six months, a border line alcoholic, a temper that would put the gods of war to shame and the only wizard on this earth who has the ability to rock my heart. And that is as much as I know of my Puzzle's past. He accompanies me on some of the more… unsavoury tasks I do for the French Ministry, and what an asset he is! Completely fearless, powerful and merciless. But even I had no idea of what he was truly capable of. I will tell you a small story my friend.

"The only time I have seen him come to life was two years ago on an assignment for the Ministry to infiltrate Leon Dalmas' ranks, whom, as I'm sure you heard, considered himself the new Dark Lord." Junius laughed delightedly. "He was very powerful and he was becoming a nuisance. Our French hit wizards had failed to eliminate him time and again. We met him privately, after all, Marvolo, who would not want to court the Prince and a powerful Lord onto their side. His magical aura was strong, the strongest I had ever felt. I had wondered if he really was the threat he appeared to be to my country, and I had my answer. While I was making up my mind that the government should enlist _your_ help, he pontificated and boasted and laid out his plans.

"Haidar sat back listening, staring at the ceiling completely bored by the running commentary, until Leon began to _insult_ the late Lord Voldemort. He said he had been weak and called him a fool amongst other things. Having never met Voldemort, I could not say if this was the truth or not.

"It is the only time I ever heard Haidar laugh in real amusement. '_This from a dog not worthy to lick Voldemort's boots_', he sneered, and then his wand was in his hand and... his magic filled the room, so black, so powerful that my eyes watered and I could barely breathe. '_My power is merely a fraction of Voldemort's,_ _lets see what you can do, dog'_, he said. He _toyed_ with him, Marvolo, Leon did not stand a chance and by the end he was pissing himself. My puzzle was poetry in motion and he was truly happy, his eyes alight with joy. Then suddenly he snatched Leon's wand from right out of his hand! He grabbed him by the throat and said, _'You bore me Dalmas_, _ you are the one who is weak, you are the fool, and your magic reeks of your terror. Voldemort would have crushed you as soon as you opened your mouth_. _You dare to presume you could ever hope to walk in his shoes! Not while there is breath in my body._" And then he killed him, most ingeniously I might add."

Junius smiled and sighed. "It made me wonder at the sheer power of Haidar, that he keeps hidden. It made me wonder who he _truly_ is. It made me wonder if _Voldemort_ had in fact been _the one,_ Haidar took Leon's insults so _personally_. Of course when I questioned him he just gave me that blank stare of his and acted as if I hadn't spoken.

"He travels a lot now. He becomes restless and disappears. I know he still goes to fight in muggle Middle East from time to time. I trust that he no longer plays the barbaric Russian Roulette."

Marvolo pushed himself away from the pillar and smiled at Junius. "Please be so kind as to tell Lucius I have had to leave. Take care Junius. I'm sure we will see each other again very soon."

He stalked towards his prey, cutting a path as he went. On reaching it he wrapped two arms around it from behind and dissaparated.

Junius watched as the two disappeared and smiled slyly. Dear Voldemort, he never failed to amuse him. And Haidar, the Boy-who-Lived! He knew he had been correct. His puzzle was solved.

* * *

They landed, the two men standing completely still, neither attempting to disengage. The arms around Haidar were like bands of steel, so strong and tight. The powerful body was pressed up against his back, hot breath fanning his ear. Haidar closed his eyes and relaxed into the frame behind him. The arms tightened further.

Then he was being lifted and thrown onto the large bed in front of him. Marvolo followed him down and robes were being ripped by clawing hands as the two desperately fought to disrobe the other. When Haidar had achieved his goal he grabbed two fistfuls of Marvolo's hair and pulled his face to his. The wine red eyes were dark and wild, filled with a passion that had Haidar dragging that face down and plunging his tongue into his mouth, kissing him with a urgency that left him light headed.

Marvolo lifted his head for air, sucking it deep into his lungs before looking down into Haidar's green eyes. Desire filled them, a yearning savage need that made his breath catch. It wasn't enough.

"You know," he rasped harshly as he parted Haidar's thighs. "I loved you with everything I had that last year." He watched long lashes flutter over green eyes, and the last of that terrible rigid tension in the body beneath him melted. He whispered a spell and positioned himself, warm oil dripped from Haidar onto his painfully hard member. "It drove me insane because I just could not be what I thought you wanted me to be. However, I have come to realise, a little late admittedly, that you didn't want Marvolo, the politician, did you? It was Voldemort. You never spoke in the bedroom for fear of giving yourself away."

Haidar nodded slowly, his breath coming in gasps now, his body burning with need.

"Say my name,_ Harry_," Lord Voldemort hissed icily. "This silence in the bedroom will cease from here on, and the names of the men we truly are will be used. Say my name now and soon I will make you scream it."

"_Voldemort_," Harry breathed.

"You left me. Alone, _maddened_, for _six_ years." Voldemort pushed forward slightly, until he was only just encased in Harry's tight heat. "You will never leave Lord Voldemort again." He bit punishingly hard into Harry's neck making him groan loudly. "Say it!"

"I will never, _never,_ leave you again my Lord Voldemort. I cannot bear the agony of my life without you, I will never leave again." Gone were the clipped hard tones of Haidar, his voice was smooth and slightly desperate, and much to Voldemort's dismay, filled with a real pain that had him stroking his boy's face and smoothing his hair.

"Very good, Harry, very good." Voldemort kissed him deeply, tasting warmth and whiskey. "Your Lord never took another, Harry," Voldemort purred silkily, ghosting over Harry's lips and nipping at them. "Never. How could I when all I ever wanted is you?"

The green eyes looked up at him and _there_. There was that same look of love, that same adoration Voldemort had been waiting to see again for _six_ long years. "Tell me, Harry, tell Lord Voldemort what he wants to hear."

Harry snaked his arms around Voldemort's neck, kissing his eyes, his cheeks, his lips, in-between the words of his litany. "I love you Voldemort, my dear Lord Voldemort, I love you, always you." The litany became softly desolate as he placed open mouthed kisses along Voldemort's jawline and throat. "I have loved you so much, for so long, Voldemort, I think I may die from it. I love you so much I may die... I think may die from it..."

"Not a chance my dear sweet boy," Voldemort soothed, licking a tear from his cheek. "Not a chance. Tomorrow I will be making you a Horcrux. Did I not say you would never be leaving your Lord again?"

Harry nodded solemnly, his eyes dark with a depth of emotion Voldemort had never seen in them before. "_**Take me my Lord Voldemort, take me, do it, do it now..**__." _As the sound of the silky smooth parseltongue whispered across his senses Voldemort plunged fully into his boy, at the same time swallowing the scream of his name from Harry's lips. He began pounding him into the mattress. It was not kind, it was not gentle, it was exactly how his boy had always loved it. It was exactly how his boy had always demanded it from him.

Lord Voldemort pounded his boy into the mattress with the same passion_,_ he had waited _six_ long years to feel again, that could never be satiated. With the same burning love, he had felt _six_ long years ago, that had consumed him then, and had consumed him every single day since.

- FIN-

Massive thanks to all those who have Fav/Reviewed this story. I am truly grateful.

This was written during a mental block on a multi chapter story I am writing (LV/HP) I am back on track now and the first chapters of the story will be posted soon. Thanks again everyone - especially those who have taken the time to review, it makes the writing experience so worthwhile.


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